


What You've Been Missing

by GoDownWithThisShip



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Gotham City Sirens (Comics)
Genre: Enthusiastic Consent, F/F, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 12:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4434707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoDownWithThisShip/pseuds/GoDownWithThisShip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This all happens post Gotham City Sirens where Harley accuses Ivy of being in love with her. Harley feels bad, Ivy feels wronged. Harley realizes she's in love with her best friend and Ivy couldn't be happier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What You've Been Missing

**Author's Note:**

> I just love this pairing and I wanted to explore how these ladies dealt with the happenings of Gotham City Sirens. I also wanted to write tasteful smut for them that was still good (I hope). So, that's how the fic was born. Enjoy.

Ivy smells like soil and the world after a thunderstorm. Her skin is greener than usual in the early afternoon sunlight and small beads of sweat glisten all over her body like little winking diamonds. She looks elegant laid out, naked as the day she was born (or planted who knows with this girl), on the balcony. 

 

"How long do you gotta photosynthersize for, Red?" Harley asks squirting another handful of sunblock into her palm. The question is empty because Harley does not care about the answer. She could sit out here and watch Pam all day. But, she had made a fuss about getting a sun burn earlier, and it is probably best to keep up the pretense.

 

"Photosynthesize, Harley," the red head corrects her. "And I'll take what I can get, really. That jewel heist took a lot out of me."

 

Harley chews her lower lip as she slathers more lotion on her arms and legs. Her pale skin is already turning pink. "Well, we're set on funds for at least the rest of the month," Harley says, watching Pam's expression as she speaks. "You've earned yourself a little vacation, Sweetheart." She's testing the waters by using a pet name like that. It is something she hasn't done in quite some time. Not since before-

 

* * *

 

 

_She hadn't wanted to tear Ivy apart. Not like she wanted to tear everyone else in the world apart. But the words wouldn't stop and neither would the blinding white-hot anger in her. She was accusing her best friend of ulterior motives. Motives she knew were correct. Harley Quinn was amazing at playing dumb, but she knew every word and every accidental touch between them had a purpose. And she found herself striding over, forcing herself into Pam's personal space. They were used to being close, but Pam flinched away. "Is it because you love me?"_

 

* * *

 

 

Harley wrenches her thoughts from the past. That wasn't her. Well, it was her. But it was a version of her that she would love to bury away from the light of day. It would be easy to accuse Mr. J for it. After all, his poisonous influence had allowed her to grow into the kind of person who picked up on people's insecurities and stored them away for a rainy day. But, if she's being truthful, it had started long before she had even met the clown. Even before she had started pursuing her degree.

 

"Penny for your thoughts." Harley hadn't noticed Pam's fern colored eyes watching her.

 

"Why're you hangin' out with me again?" Harley blurts out. Well, she was never one for subtlety.

 

"What do you mean?" Pam sits up to rest on her elbows. Her hair is the color of Harley's favorite shade of lipstick, and for a moment Harley considers if that's the reason she had bought it. The curls shift to expose too much skin, but Harley finds it hard to look away. She stares for a moment before looking off at the skyline. She picks a particularly boring gray building to focus on. "You're the one who called _me,_ remember?" Pam presses.

 

"Thought you'd say no again," Harley mutters under her breath.

 

There's a quiet between them. They had shared silences in the past, but this one is different. Tenser, somehow. "I _have_ been busy." Pam finally speaks.

 

"Doin' what?" Harley looks back at her, cheeks pink with the anger boiling inside of her instead of the sun beaming down on them.

 

Pam sighs and pathetically shrugs. "I put out a drug cartel operating out of the Amazon, for one. I've been trying to permanently shut down this really annoying logging company-" But Harley isn't really listening anymore. She's watching the way Pam's eyes light up when she talks about her plant stuff. This has been the real problem between them now. Because Harley never noticed Pam's eyes or her hair or anything before. And, now she can think of little else.

 

"Sorry," Harley says and Pam stops abruptly. She wants to apologize for the shitty things she's done and for always putting Pammy in second place when she really deserves to be put on a frickin' pedestal. But, what comes out is, "I know you're plenty busy." She stands up to go inside, partly because she's starting to get pretty sunburned and partly because she can't look at Pam right now.

 

* * *

 

 

The moon shines dully through the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. The place they ended up in this time is _pretty_ swanky, and Harley isn't used to it yet. They're hundreds of feet off the ground and the entire city is sparkling beneath her. But, the wind sometimes makes spooky noises when it gusts against the windows. That's what woke her up tonight.

 

She's sitting in front of the window with a mug of cocoa in her right hand and watching the city fall asleep. A foggy figure moves in the glass behind her and she turns to see Pam wrapped up in a little robe and rubbing her eyes. "What're you doing sitting in the dark?" her voice is thick with sleepiness.

 

"I've heard that every house has it's own voices," Harley says, bringing her mug up to her lips, "And this one won't shut up."

 

Ivy laughs and moves to sit next to her. They sit cross-legged beside each other in front of the window. "I feel like there's something to be said," Pam says cryptically, watching Harley out of the corner of her eyes.

 

Harley sighs. "You're totally right, Pammy." For a second, Ivy's eyes gleam with triumph. "We really need to do some redecorating. I didn't want to be a downer, but the previous owners really had no taste what-so-ever. I feel like I'm livin' in a frickin' museum."

 

"Beggars can't be choosers, I suppose." They had snatched the place cheap from a grieving widow who wanted to dump off the apartment because it reminded her too much of her late husband. He had offed himself somewhere in here. But neither of them want to think about that. Needless to say, all the furniture is older than Harley and Pam put together.

 

Harley's expression sours and she glances around the living room behind them. "D'you think they… _did_ it in here?"

 

Pam makes a retching noise in the back of her throat. "God. Everything's going. Tomorrow. Put it on the curb."

 

"Couldn' agree with ya more." Harley finishes up her cocoa and looks at the gritty bits of mix left floating at the bottom of the mug. "Hey, Pam," she begins, not really knowing where she's going.

 

"Yeah, Harls?" Pam's voice is full of her usual patience mixed with a little bit of wariness. Harley wonders where that came from. 

 

"D'ya remember the stuff ya gave me? To make me stronger and protect me from your poison stuff." Harley has now turned her attention to the rug next to her leg and begins pulling at it, tearing a couple strands loose. "Do they still work?" The sentence is gritted out as though it is painful to say.

 

Pam's quiet for a moment. "Yeah, they should. Why?" She's trying to be casual, but Harley can hear the tension hidden under her voice.

 

Harley looks up with her, and in the semi-darkmess her eyes look like little Sapphires and she is both precious and priceless. "I was thinking we could try sleeping together again. For old time's sake?"

 

Pam doesn't answer right away. She's busy surveying Harley in the dark, looking for some indication that she's being deceptive. "I understand if you say no," Harley says quickly. 

 

There's more silence and Harley's getting nervous. She's about to say forget it when Pam nods. "Okay." Her voice is not as confident as it usually is and Harley's nerves are not calmed at all.

 

* * *

 

Harley wakes up with a warm back to her. One of her arms is wrapped around Pam's middle, the other is tucked under her head. Their legs are a tangled mess beneath the ancient cotton sheets. Her first instinct is to get up and start her day, but she doesn't want to wake her sleeping friend. So, she lays there, taking in Pam's sleeping form. She notes the way Pam's sleeping shirt rides up to show off the skin at her belly. Harley had never considered putting kisses there, but then again she has never thought of kissing Pam before.

 

She wonders why that is. It should have been obvious. Pam's always been around. Why _notice_ her like this now? As the room becomes a little brighter, and the red head starts to stir, Harley figures it out. It is like her earlier realization that she has always put Pam second, but it's more than that. She always put Mr. J first (big mistake). Their relationship consumed her and left her little room for much else and for a moment she feels sick thinking about everything she's missed out on.

 

Pam stirs against her and rolls over. "I remember you sleeping in more." Pam speaks without opening her eyes.

 

"How'd you know I was awake?" Harley can't hide the tone of admiration.

 

"I know everything." Pam stretches and her shirt continues to ride up. Harley moves her hand over Pam's stomach, quietly noting how soft her skin is. She thinks she sees Pam smile a bit. "I've got a plan for today," she continues without opening her eyes.

 

"I'm all ears."

 

* * *

 

 

They end up at a dusty estate sale and Harley is _bored_ out of her mind. "Why can't we just ditch the crap on the side of the road like you said?" she mutters watching a bunch of sweaty movers unload their rented van. All of the tacky, old-timey furniture's going up for auction and neither of them are sad to see it go.

 

"This way, we make a little cash and get this crap off our hands" Ivy replies quietly.

 

Harley huffs and plops down on one of the plushy arm chairs they're trying to hawk and earns a glare from one of the movers. Ivy settles on the arm of the chair and she looks about at the stuffy people milling about the room.

 

Before long, there is a small crowd surrounding them, poking around their furniture and asking them questions.

 

"How old is this bed frame?" A man asks. His posture is uncomfortably straight. He is looking down at them through thick glasses perched on the end of his nose.

 

"It's been in the family as long as I can remember," Harley replies, feigning a look of deep sadness. "It was my father's favorite. Y'know. Before he passed."

 

"High quality mahogany," Red chimes in, eyeing the object in question. 

 

"How much?" He sounds bored.

 

Harley and Ivy share a glance. "Five thousand," Ivy says quickly.

 

The man nods. "A real bargain." He doesn't notice the two ladies smile at each other.

 

* * *

 

 

By the early evening their pockets are lined with a pretty nice amount of cash and they end up spending it on new furniture and decor. When they're done, they end up with a chic, modern look (in Harley's choice colors of black and red). When everything's moved in, the two settle on their new leather couch with a bottle of Chardonnay between them. "The old hag had good taste in _something!_ " Harley exclaimed, pouring herself another glass.

 

"A toast," Ivy says, raising her glass. "To desperate old women and gullible rich people. You've made all of this happen for us."

 

"Hear, hear," Harley exclaims, clinking their glasses together. "I can't believe that one guy paid a solid thousand dollars for that end table. What a nut!" She takes a hearty sip from her glass and sets it on the table. "We make a good pair, Pam-Pam."

 

The hours creep by, quickly, and silently. The two are caught up in conversation on the couch, only pausing to sip from their glasses or laugh uncontrollably. Harley tells a joke she picked up from one of Mr. Js old henchmen and Pam's nearly doubled over. Her eyes are shining with happy tears and her cheeks are flushed dark. "I missed this," Harley says, uncharacteristically quiet after Pam's done laughing.

 

"Yeah, me too." Pam polishes off her glass and suddenly becomes very interested in a chip near the base. She turns the glass over in her long fingers, admiring the way the light catches it. "I'm sorry, Harls, but something's eating me up."

 

"What's that?" Harley's slumped against the back of the couch, her head rolled onto one shoulder because she can't seem to hold it up right now.

 

Pam has to think about her words for a moment. Her gaze is burning a hole into the side of Harley's face. "You never apologized to me. I-I mean you usually don't apologize, but I know you're always sorry. It's just-" She sets the glass down and angles her body to face Harley. "You really hurt me."

 

Harley looks up at her and she's never seen Pam so frazzled. "Is this about that thing a couple 'a month's ago? At Arkham?"

 

"Yes," Pam hisses. She looks like she's going to cry. "I've been trying to put it behind me, but I can't. You've done a lot of shitty things, Harley. Most of the time without realizing. But I think throwing my feelings in my face like that was the worst." Her words were slurring together into a heart broken jumble. She tries to compose herself by taking a deep breath, but it just turns into a sob. Harley sits up to look at her properly because she and Pam have known each other a real long time, but Pam's never cried like this in front of her before.

 

Tears are springing from Pam's eyes and hanging on her cheeks like dew on a blade of grass. "I-It's okay if you don't feel that way about me, Harls. I promise." 

 

Harley reached up to wipe away the tears with the pad of her thumb. "What makes you think I don' feel that way?" she counters, starting to feel the familiar grip of guilt.

 

Pam lets out a laugh that's so different from the laughs before. It's hollow and humorless. "Please, Harley. It's always about _Mistah J_ with you. And, I get it. It was stupid to think you had room for anyone else."

 

"I've given him up for good! I told you, Red, I'm a brand spankin' new woman. And what makes you think I don' have room for you?" Harley sits up straighter to glare at her friend. "You think you've got it all figured out, Pammy, but you don't know the half of it!"

 

Pam's on her feet now, her leg crashing into the new age coffee table they just bought. There's the harsh sound of her wine glass breaking on the floor, but her gaze never rips from Harley's face. "You're being nice to me because you feel guilty! That's all any of this is, and you can't even admit it! I'm still here, Harls! You don't have to lie to me. I'm still going to be your friend- I'm still here for you! Just don't-" She's shaking now, and wow Harley's never seen her get like this. "Don't pretend."

 

* * *

 

 

Harley wakes up with a bitter taste in her mouth. She sits up and winces as her neck and back scream in protest. So she fell asleep on the couch last night. The sunlight filtering in through the large windows tells her it must be past noon. She swings her legs over the side of the couch and stands up to stretch. A quick glance at the ground tells her someone cleaned up the glass shards from last night.

 

She wanders into the hall toward Pam's room, wondering what she's going to say. She presses the door open only to find the room empty. A quick rush of cold dread runs through her veins. Pam left. Pam left because she was being an idiot. Why hadn't she just apologized. She really was sorry. But, Pam was accusing _her_ of stuff that simply wasn't true. She had been annoyed. And, Pammy had been crying.

 

It's not like you can put a missing person's report out for a notorious, wanted criminal, so Harley lingers around the house. It feels like centuries have passed by the time the lock clicks in the door and it swings open to reveal Pam's form. She's got a big tray in her hands holding a dozen potted plants of varying colors and sizes and shopping bags are draped over both of her forearms.

 

Harley rushes over to help. "Thanks, my arms are about to fall off." Pam's voice doesn't harbor any bitter resentment. In fact she seems almost cheerful. 

 

It could be so easy to play dumb and go along with Pam's efforts, but she can't. This has to get settled. "Do'ya wanna talk?" Harley asks quietly, setting the tray down on a nearby window sill.

 

Pam sighs, "I was hoping you wouldn't remember last night's…outburst."

 

"I remember it well enough," Harley says quickly. "I wanna start off by saying, I'm sorry."

 

"No fair, that's how I was going to start," Pam replies with a smile that puts Harley at ease. They're quiet for a moment as Pam sets her bags down on the couch. "Did you mean it?" she asks. Harley's moved to stand beside her, but she can't look up from her bags. "When you said you might have room for me?"

 

"'Course," Harley replies gently. "If you'll still have me."

 

Pam looks at her and Harley can still tell she's a little guarded. "What changed?"

 

Harley shrugged. "Just, one day I woke up and I started picking up on things. Little things. Like how you smell, the color of your eyes, the way your hair falls into your face sometimes. I knew I was a goner."

 

"You know, I hope a lot of people on this planet die," Pam moves to close the gap between them. "But I would be very upset if _you_ did."

 

They had been physically close so many times before, but there is a different energy between them. Alive and electric. It's Harley that closes the gap first, because she's tired of missing out and because she wants to tell Pam something and words just can't cover it. Her lips catch Pam's and at first she's unresponsive. In shock probably. But then, she's kissing back and it damn near knocks the wind out of Harley. 

 

One of Pam's hands is at her jaw and the other's gripping her hip and pulling her closer. They're pressed up against each other and Harley's damn near gasping into Ivy's mouth and she wonder's if Pam's feeling the same way.

 

She's being pushed back onto the leather couch and she quickly knocks the shopping bags to the floor. Pam's towering over her, both hands on the back of the couch and her voice is a low purr. "Do you know how many times I've thought about this?" Harley raises a hand, like a pupil in class who's worried about the answer they're about to give. Pam chuckles and it sounds like the chorus to her favorite song. "Yes, Harley?" she leans back and raises a brow.

 

"Sooo, it's kinda driving me crazy-" She sits up so that their faces are inches apart. "-I keep wonderin' stuff about you." She reaches forward to grip Pam's hips and pull her down onto her lap. She's relieved when Pammy obliges, and settles Harley's thighs between her legs.

 

"What kind of stuff?" Pam's voice is soft and breathy. Her hands have moved from the back of the couch to slide down Harley's chest, pinning her in place.

 

Harley shrugs, wondering how she's playing off this cool-and-collected thing so well. "Well first off, if you taste as good as you look."

 

Pam opens her mouth, probably to make a comment about how _cheesy_ Harley is. But Harley leans up and nips at her jaw and moves down to suck little bruises onto her neck and Pam can't remember how to talk properly. Which, feeds Harley's ego a little bit and she's feeling more and more confident.

 

"Can I?" Harley asks, pulling the hem of Ivy's top up a bit.

 

Pam looks at her with an arched brow. "You don't have to ask," she says with an airy laugh. "I've been waiting for forever."

 

"Jus' treatin' you like a lady," Harley murmurs as she lifts Pam's top up and over her head. Pam helps by lifting her arms up and wriggling out of it. Harley's only minimally surprised that Pam hadn't bothered with a bra this morning.

 

"Well cut it out."

 

And with that, Harley rearranges them so that Pam is lying flat on the couch looking up at her with wide moss-colored eyes. Harley is still situated between her legs and she could have sworn she felt Pam give her a little squeeze.

 

She bends down to continue to press open-mouthed kisses across Pam's chest. The skin beneath her lips is hot and flushed and Pam's breathing pretty hard already. Her lips trail over one of Pam's breast while she slides her hand over the other. She playfully rolls her tongue over Pam's nipple and the woman sighs beneath her. While she teases Pam's hardening nipple with her mouth, she massages the other breast with her fingers.

 

"Please-" Pam's voice is low and gravelly and Harley glances up to look at her. She finds that Pam is watching her with half-lidded eyes. "I-I need-"

 

"Say no more," Harley replies, sliding down the length of Pam's body, planting kisses as she moved. Her fingers are shaking slightly as she unbutton Pam's pants and slides them down. Pam lifts her hips to allow the garment to be slipped away. Once her pants have been kicked aside to the floor Harley leans down to nibble the sensitive skin of Pam's inner thigh.

 

"Harley," Pam breathes in a voice laced with protest.

 

"Jeez, I'm tryna be all sweet 'n romantic with ya," Harley replies. "Ya need to hold your pretty lil horses, alright?"

 

Pam whines, but Harley ignores her and moves up her thigh, alternating between nipping and sucking. As her mouth works on Pam's thigh, her hand moves to massage over the simple cotton panties between her legs. It's funny because Red seems like the kinda girl who loves expensive lingerie, but Harley's known her long enough to know that's not true.

 

Pam's hips roll up to meet Harley's hand as she rubs little circles over the fabric. When Harley takes her hand away, Pam makes another whining noise, but Harley shushes her gently. "Something better in mind," she mumbles vaguely.

 

She grips the waistband of Pam's undies and pulls down, Pam allows them to be slid down to her knees, but Harley doesn't pull them further. Pam sits up on her elbows to watch Harley curiously, but Harley doesn't explain. She just leans down and slides her tongue up, over her outer folds before slipping into her crevice. Pam struggles to spread her legs further, but the garment hooked around her knees severely limits her movement.

 

At once, she seems to understand and she leans back to let Harley ravish her. Harley's tongue dances up and down, tracing complex patterns between Pam's lips and the Red head is practically squirming under her. Harley leans back and a huff of annoyance escapes Pam's lips. She slides one of her fingers into Pam, cautiously and Pam's body tenses in response. She leans back down to trace small circles over Pam's most sensitive spot while arching her finger inside of her.

 

Ivy's legs are shaking as Harley adds another finger and begins sliding them in and out. Both of Ivy's hands come down to tangle into Harley's hair, effectively holding her in place. In response, Harley begins to suck on Ivy's clit and slide her fingers in faster.

 

It takes only a moment before Harley feels Ivy's hands grip her scalp even tighter and she's murmuring Harley's name at erratic intervals. And finally, her back arches up off the leather couch and she's coming apart and Harley doesn't stop until she's completely motionless and breathing hard.

 

Pam spasms a bit when Harley's fingers slide out of her and they sit up to grin at each other. There's something devious in Pam's eyes when she says, "Your turn."


End file.
